Home
by msjgatsby
Summary: PIKE outtakes from the Season 2 Episode Home.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: These are just little PIKE outtake scenes of what could have happened in between filmed scenes during the episode of Home. Which was one of my favorite episodes of season 2, because we actually had the roommates interacting with each other a little instead of everyone off on their own talking to new characters I don't care about. (Though the whole dream stuff was, eh).

I liked how in the episode even when Mike and Paige are fighting, they're always sitting next to each other. Also in this one the fighting felt a bit like foreplay.

Rated T for now, probably will bump up to M later. It is meant to be read as filler between scenes, so I will usually skip writing the scenes that are actually in the show.

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><p>Mike sighs in frustration, rubbing the shampoo into his hair in the shower of Graceland. The hot water feels good, but it can't work out the knots in his body. He slaps both sides of his freshly shaved jaw, trying to focus on what needs to be done next and not dwell of the weeks of backbreaking undercover work that are being washed down the drain. He needs to stay focused. In control. On guards at all times especially now that he's back in the house with <em>her. <em>

He wonders how much of his self imposed exile to Sulla's was undercover work and how much of it was running away from the guilt of what happened to her. Atonement for letting her down. For not being able to shut the place down right away. For not slaughtering those men who hurt her. Now he wouldn't even have the fantasy of revenge. Those men who hurt her were dead, and it had happened without Mike's hands around their throats.

The only blood he had on his hands was Lina's. He scrubs even harder at the memory, as if he's still trying to wash himself clean. The one girl Paige needed to save. The promise he couldn't keep. And then he'd made everything worse by lying about it. He had dug himself this grave, and he couldn't get out of it. He had to keep up the lie. Which would be even harder now that he was back at Graceland. Back sleeping with her just a wall away.

Paige has a way of making him confused. Making him let his guard down around her and cloud his judgment. He had to stay vigilant if he-

"Don't you have your own private bathroom to shower in? Why are you hogging ours?" Mike jumps a foot in the air, as he's snapped out of the the thoughts in his head by the blonde who is leaning casually against the side of the shower staring openly at him.

"Enjoying the show?" Mike asks, trying not to back down from her reproachful gaze and not rush to cover himself.

She's seen him naked before, but now that they've ended things he didn't think she'd have the nerve just to stand there staring at him. Trying to act like he's not at all affected by standing naked in front of her, he tilts his head back up to the stream of water and continues washing, making a conscious effort to angle his body away from her in case his body forgets they ended things. He tries to continue idle chit chat, and tries to figure out how he feels about her staring at his ass.

"The hot water's busted and the security in this place requires over a weeks clearance to cut through the red tape and get a plumber in here." He explains.

"I would have thought you'd be used to cold showers now that Jessica left." Paige sneers loudly over the sound of the shower, walking over to the sink to floss. Mike winces. It's the first time since he'd rescued her that she'd mentioned Jess.

"Well with the withering stares you've been giving me lately, I don't need them, Ice Queen." Mike yells rudely back at her.

He doesn't need this shit from her. Five people are dead including the only person he could have used to link Sid and Solano. He has given up the past few weeks of his life camping out in a sex dungeon with the worst people he's ever met, and it didn't even accomplish anything. He feels more out of control than ever. The bureau thinks he's nuts, and he doesn't have a clue what he's going to say to them.

In truth he's mostly pissed because this last undercover was the hardest work he's ever done. He has been killing himself for this job, for this woman, and it has resulted in nothing but tragedy. His leads are gone, he's powerless, and he's broken his promise. He swore he would get Lina out of there, and he couldn't. If he had been… better. And he'd dug himself in so deep that now he had no choice but to keep lying to Paige. Because he couldn't admit it. Not to her. He thought the scales would all balance, but he's done such terrible things, and for what?

Meanwhile in just few hours Paige and Briggs had managed to make more headway than he had during his weeks undercover, and they'd done it without Mike. Everything Mike touches turns to shit. Maybe he's not cut out for this after all, but he refuses to admit defeat. It's easier to be angry, to push himself to be better, than to face his failures.

Mike turns off the shower angrily, nearly breaking the nozzle on this one as well in his firm grip. Without the hot water, the bathroom seems eerily silent.

"You still out there?" Mike calls out to her. Somehow he knows she is. He can just sense when she's around.

He hears her spit toothpaste into the sink and yells back, "Yes."

"Will you throw me my clothes?" Mike asks.

There's another moment of silence, and then his clothes come hurtling at his face from around the corner. He manages to catch them before they land on the wet floor and slips into his gray sweat pants, annoyed at her immaturity.

"I've seen it before you know." She reminds him, rolling her eyes at his modesty as he emerges from the shower wearing his sweat pants.

"Well yes, but then we were actually on speaking terms." Mike says cooley, as he puts his shirt over his head.

"Believe me Mike anytime you want to talk, I am more than happy to listen." Paige challenges, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him. He knows what she wants to hear. She doesn't believe him for a second. Sometimes Mike wishes Paige were just… but then again, she wouldn't be Paige.

"It's hard to talk to you when you're always snarling at me." He glares right back.

"Well maybe if you told me the truth-" Paige begins to scold him again but he cuts her off.

"The truth? The truth is, Paige, I think you have your mind made up to hate me no matter what I say. Or did." Mike points out to her.

How many times can he apologize? He doesn't even think he was wrong. In all honesty he doesn't think she truly thinks he was wrong either. For some reason she needs to hate him, and she has since he rescued her from that hell hole. Possibly even before that when she found out about Jess.

"You lied to me, Mike! You're a liar!" Paige scowls at him, walking past him into the shower and setting down her shower caddy. "I thought you were different. I thought you of all people-"

"Everybody lies here Paige! You lie all the time! It's our job. Our lies are our life!" Mike defends himself against her hypocrisy.

"I've never lied to you Mike. I told you from the beginning I was going to get my girls out." She looks him straight in the eyes, refusing to so much as blink. It was true. She'd made it perfectly clear on several occassions that the tinkerbells were her number one priority. Mike wasn't even sure if he had made the top ten on her list.

"Well you told me you forgave me, and that was a load of crap." Mike says snarkily back to her, crossing his arms and staring at her challengingly wanting to strangle her.

"Do you really want me to forgive you?" Paige asks him, and Mike is taken aback by this because the answer should be obvious. "Because you looked pretty miserable when you thought I had."

"I-" Mike doesn't have an answer for that as he realizes she's right.

Even though it had been all he'd been fighting for these past few weeks, the actual moment Paige told him she forgave him, had been one of the worst of his life. Which he didn't understand. To make things more confusing, when he had discovered that her forgiveness was a lie, a trick to keep him away so she could rescue her girls, his heart had soared. He also didn't know what that meant. Didn't know what they meant. This relationship, or whatever it was they had, was so dysfunctional it made Mike's head spin.

She had lied to him. She lied to him earlier, gone behind his back to close down the operation, and yet despite his anger, he still found it sexy as hell. Maybe she was right. Maybe he did need a cold shower. What the fuck was wrong with him?

As his mind starts to try to solve that puzzle, the silence fills up the bathroom like the steam from his shower.

Once she realizes he has no answer, she begins to undress angrily for the shower. Unlike their first night together, it is not an invitation. If anything it is a sign that he should immediately fuck off.

Mike's eyes can't help but drift downwards as she drops her sweatpants to her long legs that are revealed. His breath catches when he sees the ugly purple bruise on her leg from where she'd been hit with a baseball bat. He quickly turns away before she can reveal any other injuries she sustained as a result of Mike's incompetence.

He needs to end this. He needs to find a way to wrap this whole case up. He needs to do something so he's not just worthlessly sitting around drowning in the mess he's made of his personal life.

Storming into the hallway, he sees Briggs coming up the stairs and charges over in his direction, still drying his hair. He needs to focus on work. He needs to focus on work so he can forget the naked hurt woman he left in the bathroom.

"Did you get the call or what?" Mike demands, storming across the hall to where Briggs is coming up the stares looking at his phone.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Just another "outtake" scene from the episode Home for all those who love the PIKE. Though this chapter is a wee bit angsty, there are some happier ones planned for the future.

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><p>Mike jogs into the kitchen and sighs audibly when he notices Paige leaning against the counter next to the stove, reviewing a file. He can't seem to escape her today. Each time he sees her he feels anxious. Like his whole body goes on high alert, ready to fight, flee, or fuc… No. There will be none of that… Unless he was about to finish that sentence with fuck things up even worse.<p>

Because unfortunately that chapter of his life he's definitely closed the book on. Mike has messed things up so badly, first with the way he handled Jess, then with the rescue and the entire Sulla situation in general that things will never be the same again. Not to mention the fact he now has this huge lie of Lina's death that he carries around like an albatross around his neck. No, things are definitely done.

Mike had tried everything to fix things between them and it had all crashed and burned. He'd even fixed her ballerina in silent apology for the things in life he couldn't fix and she'd disassembled it again. If that didn't tell him things were irrevocably broken between them, and she liked them that way, what would?

And yet, even through her hostility, recently, Mike had noticed something different. Sure she was still bristling with anger, but somewhere under that he saw the distinct fire of something else. In the shower last night, she could have just left. Ignored him. But instead she'd started a fight, and stared at his ass just a bit too long and in her room this morning, there had been a definite tension. The way her eyes lingered on the bed after Mike sat down, he could practically see the memories of them making love flashing in her mind. When she'd dismissed him from her room, he could tell she was worked up, and he didn't think it was entirely from anger. The entire conversation had been underlaid with unspoken accusations, and false pleasantries, but despite that, it had somehow left Mike feeling more hopeful than he'd felt in a while.

Or maybe it's just the fact that now the two of them are back in the house Mike is realizing it has been a month since he's had sex and he's very frustrated with that fact.

Not that she's making things any better for him by leaning there, sucking absentmindedly on the end of that pen. The way she's bent over the counter highlights the curve of her body and Mike couldn't keep his eyes from drifting over the womanly form even if he wanted to.

It also doesn't help that she's wearing his favorite shirt she owns. She was wearing that white shirt the very first time Mike kissed her, and he remembers how soft the silky material feels under his touch. He noticed it earlier in her room. Sitting on her bed while she gave him that infuriating smirk. It took all his self control not to throw her down on the bed and kiss it off her lips. No. Those days are over. Now even walking to a kitchen with her in it feels like a battlezone.

Trying to ignore all the feelings, he takes a deep gulp, pretends to be brave and charges forward.

"What are you doing?" Mike asks, trying to sound casual as he walks into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator to grab a water. He winces as he realizes his tone sounds more aggressive than he meant for it to come out.

"Guarding the sauce from Johnny while Charlie showers." Paige says, not looking up from her file.

"She trusted you in the kitchen?" Mike arches an eyebrow in disbelief. Once again, if he could stop sounding like an asshole, his life would be easier.

"I'm not cooking. Just guarding." Paige says in an annoyed tone.

Mike sips on his water as he watches her leaning over the counter. Her short tone ends the conversation abruptly. He hates this.

Living with your exgirlfriend (if that's what he can even call her) that you're still in love with who hates you, is not one of the things they prepared you for in Quantico.

Mike has always felt like an outsider, and he's been ok with that, but somehow at Graceland unknowingly Mike had developed a feeling of belonging. He belonged in the seat next to her. From the beginning, it was the unspoken rule that Mike sat next to Paige. Always. Now he's not sure where he'll sit at dinner that evening. It seems like a stupid thing to worry about with everything else that's going wrong in Mike's life, but the thought of not sitting next to her at dinner is for some reason stressing him out more than he'd like to admit. He needs to fix this. So Mike did what he always does when he's uncomfortable.

"What are you working on?" Mike asks, screwing the lid back on the water and crossing the room to where she leans on the counter. He reaches out for the file, but when Paige realizes what he's doing she jerks the file back out of his reach quickly.

Her body jerks backwards away from him and bumps the arm of the pot on the stove. It's like it's happening in slow motion, but Mike still can't stop it. The pot on the stove wobbles for one second and then begins to fall. Mike rushes forward and grabs for the pot. He manages to catch it for two seconds, but it burns his hands and he instinctively drops it, the contents splattering all down Mike's front and the floor.

For a horrifying moment there is just the sound of the pot rattling on the floor. Mike and Paige's eyes both stare down at the pot which has landed right side up between their feet before coming up to meet each others. They stare, open mouthed at the other, unable to believe that that just happened. Their faces mirror each others horror as they can do nothing but stare at the other in disbelief.

Mike's eyes lower, and he realizes in horror that her white shirt, the one he loves so much, is speckled with sauce.

"Your shirt." Mike says sadly.

"Dammit." Paige finally looks down to see the bright red stains and curses. "It's ruined."

"No, just run it under cold water quickly-"

"You got it worse than me. Dammit it's all down your front it even got pants-" If Paige's shirt was stained, Mike's was flooded, it had spilled completely down his front.

"Here I think I can get most of it out-" Mike reaches for her with a wet cloth, but she bats his hands away.

"You're making it worse." She says, "It's useless, this will never come out of silk."

"No. Just go hurry up and change. I'm going to clean this up." Trying to take control of the situation, Mike looks down at the pot and picks it up by the handle. About half the contents of the pot still remain inside. He sets it back on the stove and reaches for a towel.

"Mike, you look like you just survived a slasher film!" Paige gestures to his clothes, reaching for the cloth to take over the clean up duties. He needs to change worse than she does.

"Look if you hurry, you might be able to save the shirt-" Mike says, unable to make eye contact as he begins to wipe up the mess.

"Mike, the shirt is ruined! It's done!" Paige yells at him, and even though he knows she's right, he's inexplicably heart broken. The deep red stain will never come out of the pure white silk, and he can't help but seeing it as a metaphor for their never quite real relationship. He can't accept that it's over for them. Won't accept it.

"PAIGE JUST GO CHANGE YOUR GODDAMN CLOTHES!" Mike yells at her in frustration, shocking her with his forcefulness. Seeing the shocked look on her face, he immediately repents, his voice softening. "Look I'm sorry. Charlie will be down here any minute. I'll clean up. Just please go change."

"Ok…" She looks at him warily. She's suddenly aware that this outburst is about more than spilled sauce, but she, for once, listens to him and turns to head upstairs. Mike is once again, left overly emotional, cleaning up a half empty pot of marinara.

He's learning to hate sauce night.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: I am clearly going a little stir crazy since I am no longer in a musical every evening after work. Not only am I writing fiction like crazy, I have three different roasts sitting in the fridge, the house is spotless and I've remodeled a bathroom (including retiling and plumbing). My staff at my office is also starting to hate me for my sudden desire to update and improve everything. I either need to audition for another show, or sit down and write an actual book and buy a bigger refrigerator. Until that point, enjoy the daily updates!

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><p>The kitchen is spotless by now, but Mike continues scrubbing frantically, trying to scrub out the thoughts from his head. He's just about to finally give up and go change when suddenly in a whirl Paige comes sprinting barefoot down the stairs and into the kitchen.<p>

"Quick! Charlie's out of the shower." Paige squeals at him as she sets a set of his clothes down on the now clean counter.

Mike registers the urgency of what she's saying and looks down to see the proof of the deep red stain on his light grey slacks and light plaid button up shirt. He immediately reaches for the fly of his zipper. There's no time to think about modesty. If Charlie discovers they've spilled a drop of her precious sauce they are done for.

Mike is thrown into such a panic, he immediately begins to unbutton his pants, and doesn't even think twice about Paige reaching forward to work on the buttons of his shirt. He struggles to step out of his pants, and she begins tugging frantically to drag his shirt over his head. He nearly trips over his pants as they both fumble with his clothing, and there is no time for him to think about the fact Paige is undressing him, because there is nothing sexy about an angry Charlie coming down the stairs to find him covered in her great great great grandmother's sauce.

He finally rips off his shirt and jumps out of his pants, but before he can reach for the clean clothing on the counter, the sound of footsteps on the stairs make him dive to the floor out of sight, as Charlie comes down the stairs her hair in a towel.

"What's going on here?" Charlie asks Paige who is leaning against the counter with a false smile plastered across her face. Mike lies flat on the floor crushed up against the counter, looking up at Paige standing over him, suddenly realizing how ridiculous this entire situation is. He's in his underwear lying on the kitchen floor hiding from his roommate. The worst thing about it was this wasn't the first time this had happened. He'd been in similar situations before with Paige, but they almost all included the two of them being interrupted during sex. He tugs on her ankle and tries to get her to hand him his clothes.

"All good." Paige says, keeping a forced smile on her face, and kicking Mike's hand away from her ankle.

"You look guilty." Charlie says suspiciously.

Charlie's eyes drift to the set of male clothing sitting on the counter beside Paige. She leans forward to peak over the counter. Paige sees what she's doing and jumps forward to block her view, not before Charlie sees the tip of Mike's bare calf from where he's lying flat on the floor shoved up against the counter.

"Charlie, I saw Briggs left the grocery list on the counter. You know he's going to forget something if he doesn't have it. When you call to tell him we're out of limes for the Margaritas too?" Paige pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and hands it to Charlie, blocking Charlie's view of Mike as she does so.

"Why can't you call him?" Charlie asks her knowing this is an excuse to send her away.

"I don't know which are the right brands… Besides this is your dinner. Do you really want me involved in any aspect related to cooking?" Paige smiles sweetly at her.

"Yeah, ok. My phone's upstairs. You make sure no one touches my sauce." Charlie says, taking the list and backing off slowly. Giving Paige a knowing glare she adds, "Oh, and tell Mike to make sure to get dressed for dinner."

"Will do! Is this formal or casual?" Paige asks, trying to act like she's unaware of what Charlie's implying.

"T-shirt and jeans should be fine." Charlie says, looking pointedly at the jeans and red t-shirt sitting on the counter.

When Charlie finally disappears upstairs, Paige relaxes, turning around to lean back against the counter in relief.

"Well that was close." Paige says, her whole body relaxing and letting the fake smile fall from her face now that Charlie's gone.

"She wasn't fooled you know." Mike says, standing up and grabbing the jeans off the counter.

"Oh c'mon! She totally bought it! If Charlie knew that we had spilled her sauce, do you think either of us would be standing right now? We'd be chopping vegetables until our fingers bled." Paige laughs in relief, not completely able to avoid watching Mike getting dressed.

"You know what she's thinking…" Mike says, flustered, "She's gonna think we're sleeping together."

"We are sleeping together." Paige says in an exasperated tone, and Mike sends her a look as he buttons his fly. "I mean, we were… You know what I mean."

"Yes, and we managed to avoid suspicion during that time, so now that we're not, I don't want-" Mike is cut off by Paige's laugh. A sound he hasn't heard in a very long time.

"Oh please, everybody knew." Paige laughs at Mike's naivety.

"No. They didn't!" Mike argues back. They had been so careful for those few weeks. No one could have known.

"Yes they did, they just didn't say anything." Paige's laughter has turned into giggles.

"No! We were sneaky. No one knew. Maybe they suspected but they thought we were hooking up long before we actually were."

"So you think it was just convenient that Johnny moved his Xbox out of his room and downstairs? Or that Jakes bought those new soundproof headphones?"

"What are you saying?" Mike knows exactly what she's implying, and now that he's thinking about it, he's realizing she's right. He thought they were being so stealthy and it turns out everybody knew.

"You're loud." Paige says bluntly.

"I am not loud!" Mike says, indignified of this critique. He quickly realizes his loud declaration of surprise may have hurt his argument and he drops his voice to a whisper. "If anyone's loud it's you, screamer. Compared to you, I'm Chaplin."

"Oh, I remember things differently..." She grins teasingly.

"Well, maybe I need to refresh your memory." The words are out of Mike's mouth before he even processes what he's saying. He didn't mean for that to come out quite as sleazy as it sounded. His guard was down from the deceptive normalcy of their conversation, but now he's afraid he's taken it a step too far and ruined the moment.

There's a long pause as he waits for her to yell at him again.

"Put your shirt on." Mike looks up to try to decipher the tone of her voice. She's staring at his bare chest, with a look of what? Sadness? Longing? Mike can't figure it out, but he slowly puts the red shirt t-shirt she brought him on over his head, keeping his eyes on her face as he does so.

The silence continues as the two stare at each other awkwardly. Finally, Mike looks sheepishly over towards the stove.

"Paige, we still have a problem. Charlie is going to notice half the pot's missing. We're fucked." Mike tries to avoid another fight.

"Fuck." Paige swears, allowing him to change subjects, but now both the agents just stare at the half empty pot, realizing what trouble they're still in.

"We're dead." Mike agrees.

"It's ok… We'll just- We'll just make more!" Paige says dashing towards the refrigerator.

"Make more?!" Mike asks in astonishment. "Paige, it's her secret family recipe. The sauce it's sacred!"

"You don't really believe that crap do you?" Paige asks as she loads her arms with everything she could conceivably put in pasta sauce from the fridge.

"I believe Charlie's going to kill you!" Mike says, exasperated.

"Come on!" Paige says, encouraging Mike to help as she pours half a bottle of wine into the pot. She pauses for a minute, looks at it, and then decides to dump the entire bottle, just in case. "This is the sort of high stakes, seat-of-your-pants dramatic improvisation Quantico prepared you for."

"Oh I'm sorry, I forgot that you're the love child of Julia Child and Doc Brown." Mike says sarcastically running both hands through his hair as he paces around the small kitchen alley. This was not good.

"What are you babbling about?" Paige asks distractedly as she opens a jar to smell if what's inside is cheese or mold.

"Do you have a culinary degree and a time machine I don't know about?" Mike yells at her in a panic, "Paige, even if you could cook, which you can't, it takes three days!"

"We've still got half a pot left, we'll just throw some extra filler in. No one will know." Paige insists, adding half a can of Preggo sauce to the mix.

"This is so not good." Mike groans as he watches her throw what he's pretty sure is an old mashed banana into the pot.

Ten minutes later, the pot is full again, and Mike and Paige just stand there staring at it in apprehension.

"Think anyone's going to notice?" Paige asks, looking guiltily up from the pan.

"We're going to have to get them drunk." Mike runs a hand down his face in disbelief.

"Very drunk." Paige agrees.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: More outtakes from Home. This scene starts right before when Briggs arrives home for sauce night.

Just to throw it out there, if anyone wants to make me a PIKE music video for writing inspiration, I would be quite grateful. Songs that I'm currently wanting to see done are, "It's not about you" by Scouting for Girls, "The Other Side" by Jason Derulo, "Peace" by OAR, and "Cowboys" by Counting Crows." (I would make them, but I don't have the software for downloading videos.)

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><p>"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Mike asks, as Paige comes around his shoulder pouring extra tequila into the margarita mix he's preparing.<p>

"What if I am?" Paige cannot keep the flirtatious grin off her face. Maybe she's a little drunk. She leans in, fully aware of how he's reacting to her close proximity. She places one hand on Mike's arm to whisper in his ear with a grin, "We still have to eat the sauce remember?"

"Well in that case, I better get you a refill on that Margarita." He grins at her conspiratorily as she hands him her glass, licking the tequila residue off her fingers.

"I haven't been sleeping well recently." She says so casually it take's Mike off guard. They do not casually chit chat. There is always some underlying tension. She's up to something. Mike's just not sure what.

"Me neither." Mike admits.

He feels a flood of concern for her, wondering if it's memories of the tinkerbells and her time with Sulla that's keeping her awake. They never had discussed what happened to her when she was under, but from the bruises he'd seen and the experience of being under there and witnessing Sulla's brutality he had a guess.

"You know what always made me sleep better?" She grins over at him suggestively, clearly not in as dark a place as Mike.

"Yeah, but I don't think it's a very good idea." Mike looks down at his glass with a smirk. He wonders how drunk she is.

She's up to something. He's smart enough to know what she's getting at. She's playing with him. It feels like old times, but those flirtatious days are gone, and Mike's waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for her to ask about Lina again.

"Why?" She asks, and she can't be serious. The two of them can barely hold a civil conversation, let alone make love.

"Aren't you mad at me?" Mike asks, unsure of what her game plan was at this point.

"So?" She asks.

He just stares at her in disbelief. She couldn't be serious.

"Oh grow up Mike I'm not talking about getting back together. I'm talking about-" Paige's sentence instantly dies in her mouth as Jakes comes over to get himself a margarita as well.

"What are you two up to now?" Jakes asks, eyeing them both suspiciously.

"Nothing." Paige says in an innocent tone, that is clearly not nothing. Walking away with a grin to help Johnny set the table, she looks back at Mike with a gleam in her eyes that makes his breath catch in his chest. "Don't drink too much, Levi. Leave room for the sauce."

Once Paige walks out of earshot, Jakes turns to Mike harshly.

"Ok, cut the crap. You two haven't been civil in weeks. What's going on? You messing with that girl's heart again?" Jakes leans in to whisper to Mike in a quiet threatening tone that the rest of the roommates can't hear.

Mike nearly laughs bitterly at the question. He doesn't think Paige cares enough about him for him to 'mess with her heart'. If anything it's the other way around.

"Nothing's going on. We're just calling a truce for the night. Don't ruin it, ok? Let's all just have one night of peace." Mike says, focusing a little too intently on the drink preparation.

"Forgot my glass!" Paige chirps, skipping back over to the two men, winking at Mike she grabs her glass from him with a smile that Mike can't help but return.

"Here you go." Mike laughs as he hands her the full glass.

"That's not nothing." Jakes grumbles as she walks away. He rolls his eyes after seeing the way the two of them smiled at each other secretly, ignoring him like he wasn't even there. Jakes does not want to go through this drama again. "Mike! You can't do this-"

"Hey Briggs is here! We can start!" Mike realizes he sounds way too cherry as he turns away from Jakes lecture to where Briggs is conveniently standing in the doorway. He can't wipe the stupid grin from his face. Tonight might not be so bad after all.

Everyone makes their way over to the table, but Mike approaches it nervously. He's not sure where to sit. Paige is not sitting yet, so he's not sure if he should stall and try to sit next to her, or just chance it and sit down to see if she sat next to him. As he stands there staring at the seats, Paige comes up behind him again.

"Better sit down. Don't want it to get cold." Paige informs him, a mischievous gleam in her eye. She is definitely flirting with him. This gives Mike the reassurance he needs to take control of the situation. He walks forward and pulls a chair out for her.

"Ladies first." He says, and his voice holds a playful challenge that she raises an eyebrow at, but sits down as he helps her scoot her chair in.

Mike prepares to sit in the chair next to her, but she knocks her napkin to the ground. Instinctively he bends down to pick it up for her. She leans down as well and whispers in a low voice to him, "One quick hit. Get it out of our systems. Maybe it'll help ease the tension around here or something."

Mike hands her the napkin and gives her a curious look. The whole proposition happened so fast, he's afraid he may have imagined it. She just turns back to face the rest of the table as Johnny and Charlie bring out the last dishes.

Mike sits in his chair dumbfounded as he considers it. Her words sounded very brisk and impersonal. Much like the "You've done it once you can do it again" argument she made about Jess. Mike is beginning to suspect Paige doesn't actually knows how sex works. It's not like he can just do it on command with someone he doesn't have feelings for. On the other hand, he does have feelings for Paige.

He's not naive enough to think this will help things. Them sleeping together at this point will probably make things worse, but quite frankly he doesn't see how much worse things could get than they are already. Plus, things had gone downhill so quickly he hadn't seen it coming. If he had known that their last night together would be their last he would have done things differently.

They hadn't even had sex their last night together. They'd sat in his room while he worked on cases and bitched about his work frustrations to her. She'd tried to get him to put his laptop away and come to bed and he'd just kept working, until she finally fell asleep on his floor on a case report on sex trafficking rings. He'd tucked her into his bed, and kept researching. He was such an idiot.

Tonight, he would do nothing with work. Tonight would be all about her.

…Which means he needs to get all his work stuff out of his system now at dinner so he can focus on her later.

"Hey Johnny was that Lucita or Carlito?"

"That must have been crazy." Mike can't help but smirk as he stares Briggs down at the end of the table. Between Paige and the buzz he has going on, he's feeling cocky. He can't help but notice Briggs is distracted. Mike can't miss the chance to dig at him.

"What?" Johnny asks innocently.

"When Sid called and tipped off Carlito's little side project." Mike says, his eyes still glued to Briggs.

"Actually the timing couldn't have been more perfect."

"How so?" Mike asks, watching Briggs squirm.

"No work talk on sauce night." Charlie lectures.

"No, if Mike wants to talk about work. Let's talk about work." Paige says with an underlying aggression in her tone.

Mike is pretty sure that she too may be remembering his inexcusable behavior of choosing a case file over her in his bed on their last night together. Her tone reminds him this was still not a sure thing. Her bad mood could return any minute.

Immediately Mike changes the conversation, "No you're right Chuck. We spend so much time. So what's going on? Anyone got anything going on in their lives they want to share?"

Paige can feel Mike's foot rubbing against her's under the table, sliding up her leg, towards her lap, even as he acts like nothing is happening above the surface.

She looks down at her plate, and tries to ignore the thrill the secretive touch brings her. Clearly she is fooling everyone at the table except Mike, who is enjoying her reaction, or lack there of, far too much. Damn him.

She manages to choke out some answer about a knob to Dale, barely able to focus on what's being said, trying to act cool and casual by shoving a large spoonful of spaghetti in her mouth. She wasn't sure what was going on her personal life with Mike. But she certainly didn't want to share with the table that his foot was currently nudging her thighs apart. What was wrong with her? How she could hate someone so completely, someone she knows is lying to her, being a complete asshole and still she wanted nothing more than to excuse herself from the table, take Mike upstairs, gag him with that stupid napkin around his neck, and then fuck him within an inch of his life.

"Well in lieu of that stimulating conversation… I guess work it is. Sorry Chuck." Mike shoots Paige a knowing look, biting his lip playfully.

Paige keeps her eyes trained on the plate in front of her. She should have known her proposition would go straight to his head. He's getting cocky. And unfortunately for her, she forgot how hot cocky Mike was. She would make him pay for that later tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Some slightly dirty stuff in this one, but lets face it. Pretty tame after the last M story I wrote, right? Next chapter may make me bump it up to M, so if it suddenly disappears, adjust your filters and look for it there.

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><p>Paige is standing over the sink scrubbing dishes after sauce night. Normally, she would find a way to pawn it off, but she doesn't mind the chore tonight. She's feeling agitated and the mindless scrubbing is helping calm her down after tonights dinner drama. Mike walks into the kitchen carrying some more dirty plates for her pile, and the sigh of frustration at his presence she lets out nearly rattles the glass.<p>

"I cleaned up the rest of the dining room." He informs her. "I'm pretty sure the tablecloth is ruined."

"Yeah, well they'll buy a new one." Paige mutters in response, not turning around to acknowledge his presence. "Besides, it's not like we missed much. You and I already ruined the sauce."

"I thought it tasted pretty good." Mike says coming up beside her at the sink, and Paige wonders if he's still talking about the sauce or using it as a metaphor for something else. When she doesn't reply, but instead just keeps scrubbing he asks, "So what do you really think about this bank robbery. Think Amber's going to go for it?"

"Charlie's out there trying." Paige sighs, handing him the wet plate to dry. "She'll do her best."

"Am I crazy for doing this?" Mike asks. The earnestness in his tone makes her pause in her scrubbing as she's reminded of what an unsure rookie he used to be. Mike acts so cocky normally that sometimes it's easy to forget he's the newest agent out of them all.

"Why are you asking me?" She asks carefully.

"I value your opinion." Mike says, reaching for another plate to dry.

"Even if you never listen to my advice on anything…" Paige scoffs.

"Just because I don't always-" Mike begins to defend himself, but Paige cuts him off and just like that, they're arguing again.

"Don't always, Mike? Try never! You never think of anyone but yourself-"

"You don't know what I'm thinking, because you don't ask, you just assume-"

"Because when I ask you lie! Every word you've ever told me is a lie!" Paige slams down a plate into the soapy water, creating a splash.

"I have been more honest with you than I have ever-" Mike grabs the plate from the water, leaning in close as he whispers harshly back at her.

"Abby! Briggs! Jess! Lina! Me! You are a pathological-"

"Yes, I have made mistakes, but your reactions make it impossible-" Mike would like to finish one god damn sentence without her cutting him off.

"So finally you admit you've made mistakes? Because the way you strut around here like you're the only person who knows what's right-"

"This coming from you? You are one of the most unapologetically self righteous-"

"You are the rookie who came back here after months of no communication and just seized control of the house, telling us how to act, how to feel-"

"You don't always get to be in control Paige! Sometimes I make decisions you won't like and you need to learn to deal with that!" Mike nearly screams at her in frustration, but despite the intensity the two have managed to keep their voices quiet.

"This coming from you control freak?" She challenges.

"Please, I have not for one second had control in this relationship." Mike laughs bitterly, "First you pushed me at Abby, then _you_ decided when we would break up. You practically shoved me on that plane for DC after I kissed you. Then you dropped that towel and expected me to drop everything in my life for you, which I did by the way, and then you run at the first sign of trouble?"

"I'm sorry, am I over reacting to your _murder cover up_?" Paige yells sarcastically.

"Oh please, I lost you long before Silmar. You were out the door the second Jess showed up." Mike challenges.

"I didn't want to compete with your girlfriend." She is not backing down, and the two are screaming so close to the other's faces that their noses almost touch.

"I told you she meant nothing." Mike insisted. "But what you asked me to do? To go seduce her, to get you your team? That was _you _throwing away what you knew we had because you were scared. I didn't end this, Paige. You did."

"So what? You would have left for DC again soon anyways."

"And yet for some reason that is becoming increasingly unclear to me, I'm STILL here." Mike shrugs snarkily at her, feeling he's proved his point. "Not in DC."

He glares at her smugly, feeling that he's finally shocked her into silence and finished a sentence. She glares at him, seemingly at a loss for words, when suddenly she lunges forward, grabs him and kisses him roughly. The plate in his hand falls to the ground and shatters.

Mike wraps his arms around her, crushing her against him. Their tongues battle roughly between them, as the two try to touch each other as much as physically possible. They stumble backwards as they keep kissing, needing to find something solid to anchor their writhing bodies. As they hit the counter, another glass is knocked off the counter and joins the shattered pile below.

Mike moves his hands to her ass and lifts her up, so her legs wrap around his waist. The leverage of lifting her up breaks the kiss and she stares down at him hungrily as he carries her bare feet away from the shards of glass. He presses her against the stone of the wall that separates the kitchen from the living room, safely away from the broken glass.

The two kiss passionately, and for the second time that day, Paige is clumsily attempting to undo Mike's pants as quickly as possible. She whips his belt off of him and throws it across the floor of the kitchen and Mike's hands slide up under her shirt, squeezing and caressing her through her bra. Her hand slips down the front of his boxerbriefs and he groans into her mouth at her touch. The downstairs floor plan is fairly open, and though the stone wall provides a bit of protection, they have never taken things this far downstairs even when they were together. Mike feels like he has whiplash from the dance they've been doing recently. They're either screaming at each other or desperately clinging to the other. There is no in between.

"Paige? What is this?" Mike asks, breathlessly against her lips. "What are we doing?"

She pulls away from him ducks down, and Mike starts to think she's leaving again until he realizes she's sinking to her knees in front of him.

"Putting aside our personal differences and getting to work." She smiles up at him from where she kneels in front of him and Mike bites his hand to muffle a moan as she takes him in her mouth. He leans forward, supporting himself on the stone hall with one hand and running his fingers through her hair with the other. He tries to control his breathing as her tongue laps at him and her throat constricts around him.

"Oh, my god- Fuck! Paige-" Mike once again can't make full sentences, but this time he doesn't mind. His eyes close and he fights for control. He forgot how hot her mouth was, and the fact that they're in the open kitchen midargument makes it even more taboo seeming. Mike's blood is thrumming through his veins as he dares open his eyes to look down at the sight of Paige on her knees in front of him.

Suddenly Mike hears someone coming in from the garage, and worries Charlie is coming back into the house. Paige hears it too, and stops. She jumps to her feet guiltily, trying to get out of the compromising position. Breathing hard, she smooths her hair and wets her lips, still tasting Mike on them, trying to collect herself.

"Leave your door unlocked tonight." Mike whispers gruffly to her as he tucks his erection uncomfortably into the hem of his boxer briefs and zips up his pants as he brushes past her to head off whoever is making their way into the kitchen.

She grabs a clean bowl to carry over to the sink, careful of the broken glass as she hides her flushed face by facing the sink. She simultaneously curses and welcomes the intrusion. What the hell is this toxic thing between her and Mike and why can't she resist it?

Briggs notices the strange tension the second he enters the main kitchen as Mike tries to pass by him, his eyes low.

"What were you two whispering about?" Briggs grabs Mike's arm to stop him and asks suspiciously. The last time Mike investigated Briggs, Paige had been the person he'd confided in. Briggs wonders if Mike has once again brought Paige in now that Mike's blackmailing him with the cassette tape. This secret is getting harder and harder to contain.

"What do you think?" Mike tries to turn the question around on Briggs to avoid suspicion, but all it does is makes Briggs think the worst.

"You look guilty." Briggs observes Mike's flushed face and downward cast eyes. Briggs looks over Mike's shoulder to where Paige is turned with her back to them, scrubbing the dishes a little too hard.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you." Mike challenges back aggressively. He knows it was Briggs who tips off Sid. Even though he can't stay mad at Paige for the betrayal, he can be pissed at Briggs. For both Sid and the current interruption in the kitchen.

Shoving past Briggs, Mike struggles not to look back towards Paige, instead heading upstairs. Mike needs to get to work. If for no other reason than to distract himself from the uncomfortable tightness in his pants and the blonde in the kitchen. He yells in a frustrated tone up the stairs, "Johnny! Jakes! I need you guys to start crafting some aliases!"

* * *

><p>When Charlie comes home from her meet with Amber, Mike is still filled with a nervous energy and he greets her before she even gets through the entryway. "Are we in?"<p>

"Mike we've got two hours to put together airtight aliases. To convince Amber that we're hired gunmen. So..."

"I've already got Jakes and Johnny on it."

"Great."

"And Briggs?"

"She's not comfortable taking hostages with less than four gunmen. I'd ask somebody else, but-" Charlie apologizes,

"No. No, it's fine. I can keep an eye on Briggs." Mike says. Maybe focusing on Briggs will keep his mind off Paige.

"Great." Charlie sighs in relief.

Mike could have sworn someone was staring down at them from upstairs, but when he looks up there's no one there. Charlie and him start to walk back into the house together away from the foyer, when she looks him up and down.

"Weren't you wearing a belt before?" Charlie asks, looking up at him suspiciously.

"I took it off. It felt tight after dinner." Mike says, looking her straight in the eye, his face unreadable.

"You didn't eat." Charlie points out the flaw in Mike's lie. A small grin threatens to overtake his face as he looks down at his feet then back up at her. He looks guilty as sin and damn proud of it. He doesn't answer her, just shrugs.

"I'm glad you two are working things out." Charlie says knowingly, walking past Mike to head to the kitchen.

"I don't think it's that." Mike says, running a hand over his neck as he follows. He doesn't know what's going on with him and Paige these days and it's messing with his head. Even though not much is being said, it feels nice to talk to Charlie about it.

"Yeah, well whatever it is, don't let it get in the way of this bank robbery." Charlie warns him.

"It won't." Mike says, suddenly all business again.

"Two hours, Mike." She reminds him. He's putting them all in a dangerous situation, and she needs Mike's full focus. Charlie knows the only thing that could throw Mike off of the case, is the blonde upstairs.

"I told you, I have Johnny and Jakes working on it." Mike defends himself. Charlie's right. He needs to get to set aside whatever he's feeling for Paige aside until after this heist.

"And what do you have Paige working on?" Charlie raises an eyebrow suggestively at him.

"Clothing." Charlie looks at Mike in surprise that he'd be so blunt, but he just grins at her reaction and continues talking. "We need to make sure we look the part of criminals right?"


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Short chapter but I wanted to make sure I posted something. I apologize for the lack of writing. I really have no good excuse, other than I met someone and I'm unfortunately a bit twitterpated at the moment, resulting in the fact that currently most of my daydreaming is focused on him rather than Graceland. Give me a bit of time to discover his flaws and adjust to these new dopamine/serotonin levels I'm experiencing and I'm sure I'll be able to focus again. So sorry!

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><p>"Do you hear something out in the hall?" Mike whispers against Paige's lips.<p>

"It's nothing." Paige whispers furtively back, barely pausing in her attempts to kiss Mike to get out the words. "Someone's probably just using the bathroom."

"Fuck, it sounds like somebody's in my room." Mike's fully alert now, pushing himself up to his knees like a groundhog. Paige's blanket falls off his shoulder and pools at his waist, his shirtless body illuminated in the moonlight.

"Mike, no one's in your room." Paige groans in frustration her hands coming up to push her hair back from her face and then hit the bed on either side of her in frustration.

Mike throws his legs over the side of her bed, preparing to get up, but Paige comes up behind him and wraps her arms around him.

"Paige, if someone's in there, how will I explain that I'm not in bed?" Mike closes his eyes and holds both her hands over his chest. He lets his head roll to the side as she kisses up and down his neck.

"How will you explain coming out of my room half dressed in the middle of the night to catch someone in your room?" Paige points out logically, whispering the words into Mike's ear.

He concedes the point, and starts to relax again in her arms as he gives in to the sensation of Paige pressed up against his bare back, her lips on his skin. Her cold hands are held in his warm ones and he closes his eyes savoring the moment.

Kissing the spot right behind his ear she whispers, "If you're really that worried about it, I can go check it out."

"No. You're right. I'm sure it's fine." Mike whispers back, turning his head to kiss her again. He wasn't fine actually. He was fairly certain that he had heard the noise of someone entering his room, but he'd deal with it later. Whatever it was, wasn't worth risking the tentative truce he had with Paige. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried that maybe Sid found-"

"Mike, you're obsessing again. There's no way Sid knows about Graceland." Paige rolls her eyes in frustration, wishing he would just shut up and kiss her. They're robbing a bank tomorrow, and she would like to eventually get some sleep before hand. She doesn't want to be up all night talking about Sid Markum.

"I know. No, you're right. Of course you're right. I'm sorry." Mike shakes his head as if he's trying to clear it.

Her hands move to massage his shoulders, her fingers working through the knots in the hard muscle. He moans out in appreciation. He needs this with her and he knows she needs it too. The weeks of fighting, of obsessing over the case, both their bodies were filled with tension that needed to be released. However Mike had more in mind than just a massage. He brings one of her hands to his lips to kiss it tenderly, before using that same hand to pull her over his lap impishly so she was dipped off the bed. Her hair spills backwards and she squeals in surprise at his sudden playfulness and he swallows that noise before their roommates can hear.

He gently helps her back to a seated position beside him on the bed, kissing her tenderly and nuzzling his nose to hers.

"Just stop thinking, Mike." Paige grumbles against his lips. She knows she may as well tell him to stop breathing, but never the less kisses his lips in frustration as she tries to get back into the mood that Mike keeps wrecking with his worrying. "C'mon. We don't have all night."

Mike smiles at her impatience, and gives her a quick kiss before he reaches over to her nightstand drawer to where he knows from experience Paige keeps her condoms. He has to dig around for a moment. Her stash was running low when they last did this, and Mike is secretly relieved she hasn't rushed out to fill it for some other guy. He finds the last condom, but is momentarily distracted by a photo he didn't know she had.

It's a picture of her and Mike which he vaguely remembers had been taken his second month here. Mike remembers that Johnny and Jakes originally were in the photo too, but seem to have been cropped out of Paige's version. In the photo Mike is bending over the pool table trying to take a shot. Paige is leaning in close beside him, presumably trying to cheat by distracting him. It's clearly working as Mike's eyes are glued to her's and they're both laughing. Mike runs his fingers over the tattered photo. It feels like ages ago.

"What's wrong now? Are we out of condoms? This is just never going to happen, is it?" Paige doesn't know what's taking Mike so long, and immediately assumes the worst. Dammit she needs to get laid. Isn't it enough she's given up her pride to allow Mike back into her bed before she's ready to forgive him?

"Last one." Mike says, clearing his throat and shoving the photo back deep in the nightstand. "I'll buy us a new box tomorrow."

"Don't get too cocky. This isn't going to become a regular thing again." Paige insists. "This doesn't mean anything."

Mike hates it when she says things like that. Even when things didn't suck so much between them, she would still say things like that. That this didn't mean anything. That they were just a fling. That she just needed a warm body to sleep next to, to fend off the loneliness.

By this point Mike no longer believes her. This obviously meant something even if they didn't know what. Because even if this is just sex for her, it's not just any warm body she's chosen. It's not Johnny, or Jakes, or some stranger at a bar. It's Mike. Even though she says she hates him, thinks he's done unspeakable things (he has), it's still Mike she has in her bed. And until there's someone else here, Mike knows he still means something to Paige. Even if he doesn't know what that is exactly.

"Right. Do you want me to put on the mask so you don't have to see my face?" Mike asks, He meant for the words to come out like a light hearted joke, there's a tinge of bitterness behind them.

"No, but if you keep talking I may have to gag you." Paige says, as she lays back down on the bed pulling him back down on top of her for a kiss.

"Gag me? And Amber thought you were innocent." Mike grins looking down at the beautiful naked woman in underneath him.

"Yeah and she thought you were a bank teller." Paige retorts, bringing her hands up to run through his hair.

"Hey, it was your job to dress me." Mike's voice changes to a seductive purr as he straightens up over her, bringing her hand to the lining of his boxers, "... and now it's your job to undress me."

"Well you're in charge…" Paige says reaching for the cloth that covers his hips.

"Say that again." Mike breath hisses between his teeth as she peels the fabric down his thighs.

Paige considers giving him a hard time. He really doesn't deserve this treatment. She hasn't forgotten her anger or that he's still on thin ice with her. But she knows Mike. She knows he wants to feel in control. That he gets off on power. That with everything going wrong recently, he's probably never felt more powerless, and that the more out of control he feels the more desperately he tries to control things. Control missions. Control people.

She hopes that he catches Solano and Sid soon, because she can see he's drowning in this case. Every day she sees this case chip away at the man she once loved. See parts of him she cherished burning on the floor. She sees him becoming more desperate, like a caged animal; wild and savage. Losing his humanity.

She can't give him the feeling of control in his work. Not when she's feeling so lost as an agent herself.

With the tinkerbells shut down, and Sulla dead Paige feels strangely unsatisfied. In her heart she knows Lina is dead, but until Mike admits it she can't find closure. She's not even sure him admitting it would grant her the closure she needs. Knowing that there are monsters out there- men who sell and buy women. Sell human beings like faceless replaceable inventory. Her knowing first hand the damage that kind of cruelty does to it's prisoners. The hopelessness. The shame. It's like an open wound. One she doesn't know will ever heal.

She can't guarantee this bank robbery plan will work. It's desperate and careless and they haven't had enough time to prepare. It's the last hail mary play in the game, that hopefully will give them the inch they need to just barely win, or at least tie. In her analytical mind, Paige can already see at least fifty different ways this could all go wrong, but she knows telling Mike that would do more harm than good. What he needs right now is confidence. To feel like he's once again in control.

She can't give him control over the case, but tonight she can give him control over her.

So getting up on her knees on the bed in front of him, she removes her own shirt and then leans in, laying a tender kiss on his neck, his collarbone, his shoulder, his heart.

Working her way down his body, she whispers to him sensually, "You, Agent Warren are the boss. You're in charge. You're completely in control."

"What do you want me to do to you?" Mike whispers.

"Whatever you want." She purrs, her tongue tracing the V of his hip bone. "You're the boss."

"Whatever I want…" Mike murmers looking her up and down like he would devour her. Crawling over her on the bed, he lays a soft kiss on her cheek. "Thank you."

"Tell me what to do." She whispers into his ear, letting her body arch up against his.

"Just enjoy this." Mike says as he softly trails his lips over to her ear. "Just let me show you the difference."

"What difference?" She gasps, her hips bucking off the bed of their own accord as he kisses a sensitive spot on her neck.

"The difference between all the men you've known, and me." Mike says resolutely.


End file.
